


Revelation 3:20

by DearReaper



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, ayla just wants her man back but he's too busy stapling people to churches, john seed is a sadistic boi, tags will be updated as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-26 13:26:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16682464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearReaper/pseuds/DearReaper
Summary: Wealthy, successful, and with a wife-to-be who he'd give the world for, John had put his past behind him in an attempt to move forward.That was until a knuckle came knock knock knocking on his front door.





	1. Three months on.

“Come back to bed baby...” Ayla whined softly into her pillow, arm outstretched to the empty side of the mattress beside her as she snuggled into the pile of discarded blankets. Her slender leg hooked over the bundle, white lacy underwear framing the plump curve of her ass.

John could only sigh as he raised a lovingly judging eyebrow at his fiancée, her pink hair masking her face from view. “Ay.” He grunted the single syllable of her shortened name in frustration, and yet he couldn’t help the playful smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. “It’s 10 past 10 and I have work to do. You know I can’t.” He chided as he stood by the side of the bed, hands fastening up the buttons of a light blue shirt that covered his toned torso.

Ayla offered a tiny snort of disapproval as she sat up sleepily in the kingsize bed, before the devious smile that John adored her for worked its way to her lips. She scooted forwards on her ass towards him till she was at the edge of the bed, then hooked her legs around his thighs, deliberately pulling him closer with her heels. “Five minutes, c’mon... _please?”_

John laughed and shook his head at her, his fingers fiddling with the second to last button of his shirt. “ _Five minutes?_ I’m not 18 anymore Ay.” He smirked, then leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her messy pink hair, before attempting to free himself of the spider’s web that was her legs. “Listen, I won’t be back late tonight, alright? I’ll make us some dinner, we can watch a movie-“

“ _Fuck on the kitchen counter_.” Ayla interrupted, her teeth biting at her lip until she started to giggle again. She stood and leaned into his body, arms wrapping around his waist. Her chest smushed against his own, giving John an eyeful of her tits cupped in a white lace bra, matching with her panties. She only ever wore matching sets nowadays; it did things to him. Things that Ayla was _all_ in favour of.

There was an admirable height difference between them. John was around 6’4, Ayla maybe 5’8. And yet as they stood right now, with Ayla on her tiptoes determined to steal a kiss, it was clear who was the bigger menace out of the pair.

“Ay...” John sniggered, his lips humouring her with a peck of a kiss before he pulled his face back to look at her, ignoring the way she batted her dark eyelashes at him. “Stop it.” He scolded, his voice firm and yet far too warm to be convincing. His hands reached behind him to unlock hers from his waist, and he _(albeit a little reluctantly)_ pulled away. “You want me to get you some ice cream from the store on my way home?”

Ayla scoffed and flopped back down on the bed, her body stretching out enticingly on his side of the mattress in a last ditch attempt to change his mind. “Obviously.” She exhaled dramatically, watching as he picked up his briefcase. She pouted as he adjusted his suit jacket, frustrated that she hadn’t gotten her way, but not wanting him to leave thinking she was being moody. She really did love him, even if her main purpose in life was just to _annoy the fuck out of him._

“Try to refrain from sending me indecent images while I’m at work today; it hinders my productivity.” John teased, drinking in the view of her as he backed towards the bedroom door.

“I bet.” Ayla rolled her eyes and glanced over at him. She never understood how anyone could look quite so impossibly handsome in a suit, but good god, she couldn't wait to get fucked tonight. _His leather belt binding her wrists, his suit jacket thrown with little care to the side in his haste, his strong, rough hands unbuttoning his shirt before he'd flip her over and-_

A **knock** at the front door from downstairs pulled both of them from their lewd thoughts, and in turn caused Ayla to whine at the thought of having to socialise at such an early hour. _Early being anytime before lunch, in Ayla’s books._

“Can you get that on your way out? It’s probably just the mail.”

“Mhm.” John nodded, the bedroom door already being nudged open with his foot as he turned to leave. “See you in a bit Ay, be good.”

Ayla sighed and cuddled into his pillow. It lingered with the scent of his aftershave from all the times she’d managed to drag him back into bed before work. “I'll try, love you.” She called back longingly.

*******

**_\- A little over three months later -_ **

A voice shook Ayla from her thoughts; a distant call of her name in the dim light of the bunker. She sat in the corner of one of the many rooms, back pressed against the cold stone wall, knees up by her chest. Cascaded in shadow, she sighed and prayed that whoever was looking for her would leave her alone.

As the shouting grew nearer and footsteps followed, Ayla soon realised that it was Grace, and quickly warmed up to the idea of having company. “Over here.” She replied, hesitating only for a second.

Grace soon appeared in the doorway, and Ayla sat up a little straighter, giving her friend a weak smile.

“Hey. How’s the leg?” The sniper asked, booted steps sounding on the floor as she crossed the room, which was bare apart from a couch (which had definitely seen better days) and a TV that displayed a plaguing wall of static fizz.

“About as good as can be expected.” Ayla murmured, picking at the bandage that protected the gunshot wound on her thigh.

“Sitting like that won’t help it heal, Ay.” Grace sighed. She went to talk again, but paused and shook her head, dismissing the words she was about to speak.

Ayla watched her carefully, before frowning and dropping her gaze to the concrete floor. She didn’t care about her leg, hell, it was the last thing on her mind. “I just keep thinking...if Joseph wouldn’t of shown up that day, none of this would of fucking happened. John never even told me had a brother, let alone two...and now look where we are.” She sniffled, her hair now bouncing around her shoulders in tousled blonde waves, the pink having faded out entirely within the last month or so. Her hand rest on her stomach, protective of the small bump hidden beneath her t-shirt which she caressed anxiously with her fingertips. “He had his problems before we met; sex, drugs...but for him to join a cult? A-and that guy that disappeared back in Rome? I...that’s not him, Grace. Joseph brought out some part of him that was locked away a-and I...I...” She turned her head away and closed her eyes, “I don’t know what to do anymore...I followed him up here after he left Georgia thinking I could make him see sense before it escalated any further, but every time I'm close to finding him fucking Peggies get in the way.” She grumbled, gesturing to her leg. “I don’t think he even realises I’m in Montana.”

“That’s what me and Sharky were talking about earlier...” Grace began, her hand reaching out to give Ayla’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Right now, we’re at a loss. We have no access to the outside world and we’re stuck in this shitty county with a cult that’s getting stronger by the day. If things carry on, we're all gonna be dead. Hell, you nearly bled out when that fucker got your leg. We...we think the only way we’re gonna damage them is if we can get you to John; you’re the only one that can get him to snap out of whatever haze Joseph’s got him in.”

“I doubt he’ll care anymore...if he loved me like I thought he did he never would of left Georgia with his fucking cult in the first place. Besides, I know he’s been sleeping with that Holly girl...I-I overheard you guys talking about it.” Ayla admitted, her lower lip quivering a little at the thought. She puffed out a breath and raised her hand to wipe her eyes, refusing to let her face be stained by the tears that threatened to fall. “He’s too far gone.”

“I think you’re wrong, Ay.” Grace said softly, sighing as she watched her friend grow increasingly upset. “We could just kill him, sure, but if anything that’ll only cause Joseph and Jacob to fight stronger. If you get John back onside, we weaken the cult and you get him back. Plus, when he realises that you’re-“

“Do you have a plan?”

“Course we do, Peach.” Sharky spoke up, having been leaning against the doorframe of the room unnoticed for some unknown portion of the conversation. Peach was his nickname for Ayla, having coined the term when her pink hair began to fade into a peachy shade before succumbing to her natural blonde. “If you really want your crazy husband-“

 _“Fiancé”_ Ayla corrected.

“ _Fiancé,_ back, then look no further. Sharky’s got ya covered.” The pyromaniac gave her a warm smirk, determined to cheer her up with his light hearted demeanour. “You wanna hear it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well howdy!
> 
> Oh boy, this is going to be a lot of fun. 
> 
> I'm excited to be writing a new FC5 story, this time one with a vastly different approach. Let me know your thoughts on it in the comments! <3
> 
> /Reaper


	2. Sunday's plan.

“So...” Sharky clacked his tongue against his cheek, gesturing to the tattered map on the camping table in front of him. “This plan, Peach, it’s got one biiiiiig focal point that the whole thing is riding on. Any guesses?”

Ayla rolled her eyes though forgave his enthusiasm with a small smile. Every new mission was a challenge to him, a chance for him to prove to the rest group that he was capable of much more than just setting things on fire. She leaned against the wall, slightly unsteady as one foot hovered in the air, relieving the weight from her injured leg. “Well, Shark, I’m guessing that’d be me? You know, seen as how he’s my boyfriend and all.”

_“Fiancé”_ He reminded with a mildly cocky smirk, seen as how she’d pulled him up over it barely five minutes earlier. “Anyway, yeah. Me and Grace have been looking it over and we reckon it’ll work, 9 out of 10 times at least.”

“And what about that one time where it doesn’t?” Ayla hummed, raising an eyebrow at him though she’d already determined the answer. “There’s more at stake than just me Sharky.”

“It’ll work.” Grace interjected, glancing at Ayla with an encouraging smile. “He’s just being...cautious. We wouldn’t put you in this situation otherwise.” She passed a look to her pyromaniac friend before nodding to the map, her gloved hand reaching out to point to an ‘x’. “Here. New camp set up in Holland Valley. John’s been spotted there a few times with Holly, any  resistance fighters they’ve captured down there have always been taken to his Bunker - _alive.”_

“So you want me to go down there?” Ayla frowned, her cheeks puffing out as she stared at the destination. The camp was just east of Bradbury Farm, bordered by a small forest the one side and a river the other. 

“Mhm.” Grace concurred, turning away for a second to fetch a folding chair from the corner of the room. “From what Jess has seen, he doesn’t go down there of a weekend. Apparently he spends it with...well...yknow, over at his Ranch.” She spoke the last part quietly with a sympathetic frown and opened the chair up beside the table, motioning for Ayla to sit. “We’re thinking you go down on the Sunday. The Peggies will take you up to his Bunker - _which he's arrogantly named John's Gate, for the record_ \- and you’ll see him on Monday, it’ll be a little quieter and it’s gonna be the only chance we get to put a dent in this fuckin’ cult and for you to get your partner back. If you still want him, of course. If not, we-“

“Grace..” Ayla mumbled, the quiet noise followed by a disheartened sigh as she carefully lowered herself down into the canvas chair. “Mine and John’s relationship is private, a-as much as it can be, anyway. I’ll do whatever I can to help you guys out with the cult, but as for my family...that’s something I need to sort for myself.” 

Grace bowed her head but gave a fleeting nod showing she understood. “I didn’t mean to intrude, we just want you to know that we’re here for you now, regardless of what the outcome is with you and him.”

Sharky drummed his fingers on the edge of the table, sensing the rise in tension in the stale air of the room. “So, Peach, what do you think?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I? It’s the only chance I’ve got to try and fix things.” Ayla groaned, shaking her head as she came to terms with the situation she was putting herself in. “You guys are sure that Jess has got all of her information right?”

Sharky bobbed his head with a ‘yup’ and crossed his arms, body swaying as he rocked back on his heels. “Triple checked. It’s as good as it’s gonna get, and honestly? If they’re on strict orders to take their captives to his bunker alive, no harm’s gonna come to you until you’re in his hands, and when he realises it’s you, well...that’s where you work your magic, Peachy girl. He obviously saw something in you to be with you for what, like 6 years? And no doubt he still wants to be with you now, his brother just cock-blocked him and convinced him to join a cult instead.” 

“ _Brothers_.” Ayla corrected with a pout, though a smile threatened to alter her otherwise dismal expression at his oddly comforting sentence. “Fine.” She eventually gruffed, “I’ll do it, can’t exactly say no, can I?”

*******

_**\- Later that night -** _

Ayla stared at the ceiling of her small room in the bunker, the cold air caressing her body as she lay covered by a thin blanket in bed. Sleeping was out the window and about six miles down the road; all she could think about whenever she closed her eyes was the stupid fucking situation she was going to put herself in on Sunday. Every time she tried to convince herself that she should just go home to Georgia and try to start a fresh life _(even though the cult wasn’t currently letting anyone in or out of the county)_ something told her to stay. Clearly, that something was John. No matter how much she wanted to hate him for what he’d become, she couldn’t. She was a self-admitted idiot in love with a psychopath. 

She forced her eyes shut and rolled over onto her side, an arm moving instinctively to cup her stomach. Images of a treasured night within the summer of last year began to flood her thoughts, and her cheeks blushed delicately in response as she succumbed to the vivid memory rolling through her mind:

“Holy shit it’s hot.” Ayla groaned as she padded down the wooden staircase barefoot, stating the obvious for what must of been the 50th time that day. She wandered through to the kitchen in nothing but her underwear, a lacy black set that barely covered her most intimate areas. Wet pink hair dripped in a ponytail down her back, the shower she’d taken 5 minutes earlier having done little to cool her down. “You want a drink babe?”

“What are you having?” John called back from his seat on the couch, body leaning forward as he sifted through a huge folder of work related documents on the coffee table. It was far too hot to work in his office, so he’d taken over the lounge instead. Ayla didn’t mind that considering the heatwave, but what she did mind was that he was still sat in his suit with only the first few buttons of his shirt undone. He was looking far too hot for her liking, in more ways than one.

“Whatever the fuck I can find.” Ayla replied, eventually locating a bottle of red on the wine rack that she quickly opened and poured into two pristine glasses. She immediately took a sip from hers and then shuffled back through to the adjacent room, feeling the eyes that were unashamedly scanning her slim figure. “Here.” She smirked, handing him his own glass before looking down at his seemingly endless stack of paperwork. “You nearly done?”

“No, but I get the feeling I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.” John chuckled, his glass being carefully placed on the side table as he eyed up Ayla's frame, which was - in his mind - perfect in every way.

She shrugged with a devious giggle and followed suit, setting her glass down beside his before climbing onto his lap. Her thighs widened out to straddle his own, and the warmth of the room took a new meaning as her crotch nestled comfily on top of his. “Do you ever?” She teased, reaching her hands forward to undo the rest of the buttons of his shirt, slowly working her way down to his stomach. 

John huffed a laugh under his breath and sat back against the cushions, his own palms smoothing down the sides of her waist till they settled on her hips. His thumbs rubbed in small circles over her toned stomach, which was inconceivable considering the amount of ice cream she ate.

“I’ve got a good feeling about this...y-y’know? This time I think-“

“Ay.” John cut her off with a small shake of his head and a weak smile, before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Don’t think about it...I...let’s just enjoy it.” He murmured, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugging her deeper onto his lap, his crotch pushing up towards hers confidently. “If it happens it’ll happen...”

Ayla blew out a quivering breath as she avoided his gaze, her hands pressing against the rippling muscle defined softly on his abdomen. “B-but I-“

He hushed her with a whispered 'shh', lips now pressing to her delicate neck. His brown hair - clammy from the heat - started to become disheveled as it tickled her jaw. “It’s not your fault, now hush.” He reassured, hand travelling soothingly across her hip and to the hem of her underwear. His fingers teased the lace for a few tender moments, before discretely slipping beneath the material.

“I-I love you John.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels so weird writing a story with an actual plot haha, hopefully I can keep it up so there's an actual story to go along with the eventual smut!
> 
> Ayla's on a mission to get her man back, but is John too far gone?
> 
> /Reaper


End file.
